A Night Without Dreams
by Sita
Summary: Bob finally reveals what happened to him in the Web. Part IV added! *cough*Askani*cough*
1. Part I

A Night Without Dreams - Part I

**A Night Without Dreams**

_Written by Lady Sita_

Disclaimer: ReBoot and its characters are owned by Mainframe Entertainment. The characters of Sentra and Quicken are of my own creation. This fic is not to be posted without my permission. 

Rating: PG13 (innuendo, violence) 

*****

**Part I**

*****

"Nooooooo!!!!!"

He screamed as the virus hit the button and the capsule he was trapped in jettisoned through the portal.

The last thing he saw was the look of horror and grief on her face; it shook him to the very core. He saw her mouth the word _no_, tears running down her face, making paths down her dirt-smudged skin.

The portal sealed, cutting him off from the life he once had.

*****

Bob's eye's snapped open. He drew in a sharp breath, and realized he was no longer dreaming.

_Why?_ he pondered silently. _Why am I being forced to relive the Web over and over again?_ The Guardian heaved a great sigh, resting his head on his knees.

*****

Dot Matrix rolled over in her sleep, and found a warm spot in the bed next to her, instead of its usual occupant. Awakened, she looked about the room and found Bob standing at the window across from the bed, his back to her. The faint light reflected off his long hair, and etched out the silver pattern of scars the ran from the edge of his hairline, down his arms and back, and to his feet.

Silently, Dot got up and placed a gentle hand on his bare shoulder. He jumped slightly, as her touch jerked him out of deep thought. He glanced at her, then continued to stare out over the darkened system.

Dot turned and sat herself down on the windowsill, so she could look into his face.

"Bob?," she asked hesitantly. "Are you all-right?"

"Yes... and no."

"Please," she said, laying her hand on his arm, "tell me what's wrong."

Bob sighed again, and his slight frame sagged as if he bore the weight of the whole Net on his shoulders. He stretched his hands out over the window sill. "Dot, not right now."

"Bob, I know something is bothering you. You've been restless for the last minute." She reached up and lightly touched the side of his face, running her fingers over his cobalt skin. Her fingers passed over the scar that ran under left eye. He winced slightly, even though the mark no longer pained him. It was memory that was attached to it.

He grabbed her hand. "Dot, please." He turned to her, his brown eyes troubled.

"Bob, tell me-"

He shook his head, cutting her off. "Not now, not tonight." Bob looked up into her exquisite face, noticing the way the light picked out the highlights in her hair.

The torment she glimpsed in his eyes sent pangs sent through her heart.

"Can this wait until tomorrow? Please?" His eyes studied her intently, as he waited for an answer.

She could stand the look he was giving her no longer. "All right," she said, giving in. "Tomorrow, then." Hopping off the windowsill, she took his other hand and led him back to the bed.

*****

The clink of china could be heard from the surrounding tables, but none of the other couples were near enough to listen in on their conversation, if there had been any.

Bob had remained silent through their whole dinner. He gave her wan smile from time to time, but he seemed uneasy, and he picked at his food.

Frustrated, Dot put down her fork. "Tell me. **Now**."

He looked momentarily confused. "Tell you what?"

"You know very well I'm talking about." Her violet eyes flashed angrily.

Bob stiffened under her harsh glare. "Oh, that..."

"Bob, I'm sorry." She reached across the table and placed her hand on his.

"No, you have every right to know." He squeezed her hand. "I should have told you from the beginning."

"Then tell me. Tell me what happened to you in the Web."

He sighed, then began his story.


	2. Part II

A Night Without Dreams - Part II

**Part II**

*****

The echoes of his cry bounced about the pod as it floated aimlessly. Bob struggled to right himself as the pod tumbled to and fro. Sighing, he turned to look out the window. As he had expected, the Guardian saw only the dark, murky swirls of the Web. 

A dim shadow slid over the window, and then something immense took the pod and shook it about like a child's plaything. Bob braced himself against the sides of the pod, fervently praying for a quick end. 

The web creature's talons ripped open the pod. Bob saw he wouldn't stand a chance trapped inside, and so pushed himself out, unused to the Web's lack of gravity. His whole body stiffened with pain as he was exposed to the piercing winds and alien atmosphere. He hoped his Guardian code would keep him from degrading long enough to find shelter. 

Bob bit back a cry as the creature attacked him from behind, nearly slashing through his thin armor. He spun around and tried to defend himself, though he had no idea how he would without a weapon or keytool. 

He kicked at the monstrosity, but only succeeded in making it angrier. It slashed out at him, its bestial eyes ablaze with fury. Bob held his arms in front of his face, hoping his metal arm guards would provide some protection from the creature's attacks. It struck at him again, and managed to get a claw between his blocks, gashing below his eye. He cried out as the poison on the tip of the claw entered his system, sapping his strength. Bob gave the creature one last futile kick. Then his field of vision quickly faded to blackness as his battered body went off-line. 

*****

The Web. Same, old boring Web. She watched as various pieces of debris floated among the dark eddies. Far away, the guttural growl of a pod of sluggish Web creatures momentarily attracted her attention. As they moved on, something remained behind, drifting. 

Sentra leaned forward in her saddle, trying to get a better look. The thing was a of sprite size, and blue. 

"Quicken!" 

Her companion remained with his back to her. She fought the urge to smack herself on the forehead; she had relapsed in normal speech again, useless when one was out in the Web. 

[Quicken!] There still was no response. With a despondent sigh, she leaned over and tapped him on his shoulder. 

He turned to glare at her. [What is it, Sentra?] Quicken asked, allowing an annoyed tone to creep into his voice. 

Sentra pointed off in the distance. [I think I spotted something. I wanna go check it out.] 

Quicken shrugged. [If you want to go chase after some Web trash, be my guest.] His dismissed her with a wave of his gloved hand, and she started to pull away. [Don't get lost now! The Clan can't afford to lost you!] She simply shook her head and continued on. _Basic girl_, he thought to himself. _If she wasn't the Clan's only healer, she would have already been harshly reprimanded._

She approached the object, having no clue as to what might be. As she got closer, she could see the thing had arms, legs... _it **wa**s a sprite!_ Sentra urged her steed, Neflit, on, and was soon at the sprite's side. She gave him a quick look over. He was a young man, older than her, with blue skin paled by energy loss, and silver hair. He was already beginning to show the tell-tale signs of exposure; silvery scarring had started to carve itself out upon his skin. Various, recent scars marred his face and pitted his armor. 

Her eyes fell to his icon, and saw the familiar gold and black. _A Guardian? How in the Net did he manage to find his way here?_ She grasped a well-muscled arm and pulled his body in front of her, draping him across the saddle. _Might as well see if I can patch him up._ Sentra quickly made her way back to the Clan's base. 

*****

The sounds of an argument woke him. 

[What should we do with him?] 

[I say we leave him; we don't need another straggler!] another voice said. The speaker sounded angry. 

[Silent, Maxis! You know we can't just leave him back out there!] the first voice said. 

[But what would we do with him, Quicken?] a women spoke. [We can take him in, treat him, perhaps, but then what?] 

Quicken sighed. [I don't know.] 

The guardian tried to speak, but his strength gave out and he blacked out once more. 

*****

When Bob opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a tall figure standing over him. The first thought that came to him was _Megabyte!_ He quickly tried to scramble away, but his weak body betrayed his commands, and he fell to the floor. 

The figure reached towards him, and Bob realized _she_ was speaking to him. In normal speech, no less. His vision cleared, and he saw a woman pulling gently on his arm, helping him back onto the bed. "Don't go tire yourself out, Guardian," she said, with the mild rebuke of a mother, or perhaps an older sister. 

Bob finally looked up into her face. Not a particularly stunning sprite, she had pale purple skin and a thin, bony face. Her dark red hair hung in limp strands down her back, and blue almond-shaped eyes regarded him curiously. She was garbed in a peculiar sort of armor, rough and strangely colored. She looked to be somewhat younger than him, but the lines in her face and a perceptiveness in her eyes made her seem beyond her hours. 

The young woman settled herself at the foot of the bed with a pleasant familiarity. "Well, Guardian, how are you feeling?" 

He winced as he gingerly sat up. "I've been better." 

"I'm not surprised, seeing how that creature almost killed you." 

"Yeah, well, it sure feels like it." Bob reached up and cautiously touched the spot on his right side where he was sure the Web creature had gashed him. 

The woman quickly leaned forward and grabbed his wrist. "Don't touch that!" He looked at bit taken back, and she smiled to reassure him. "That was a deep laceration, Guardian," she explained, releasing his wrist. "It's still very sensitive." 

He eyed his wrist, surprised it wasn't bruised. She had an uncommonly strong grip. "The name's Bob." 

To his astonishment, the woman blushed. "I'm sorry... Bob." She said his name as if it felt strange on her tongue. "Guardians are held in high esteem where I come from." She paused. "I'm Sentra." 

Bob flashed her a small smile. "Well, then, where are you from, Sentra?," he asked. 

"Oh, um, system Novell. It's a relatively small system; you've probably never heard of it. What about you?" 

"Mainframe. Kinda small too. No Net ports." 

"No ports?" She looked at him inquisitively. "Then how did you get here?" Sentra smiled shyly. "I assume it wasn't a volunteer mission." 

A shadow of anguish passed over the Guardian's face. It was swift; yet she caught the look of pain in his eyes. He looked down to the bed, and for a nano he couldn't find his voice. "I'd prefer not to talk about it," he said quietly. 

"I'm sorry for whatever has befallen you, Guar... Bob," Sentra said softly. 

"It's nothing," Bob said, trying to ignore the throbs of agony in his core. He looked back up at her. Even sitting down, she still towered over him. "How did **you** get here?" 

"Oh, well, I was on a transport to the Super Computer. both of the engines suddenly malfunctioned, and we became lost between systems. A portal to somehow opened up nearby, and we drawn into it. Web creatures converged on our ship, and to make a long story short, I was the only one alive when the Riders found it." She didn't seem to much grieved by the loss of her home. 

The room shook slightly, and Bob gripped the sides of the bed uncertainly. "Don't worry," Sentra reassured him. "That's just the airlock." 

Several sprites - or something that looked like sprites - ran past the room. Two of them carried another between them. One of them stopped in the doorway. [Sentra! Come quickly! Cobalt's been hurt!] He turned and quickly followed the others down the cramped hallway. 

Sentra smiled at Bob as she stood up. "Sorry, duty calls!" She made her way to the door and turned around. "Try to get some sleep. I'll be back in awhile to check on you." The woman turned and left. 

Bob fell back on the bed, and allowed the much needed to rest to come, wondering what nightmares would haunt him this night. The last thing he saw was a pair of sparkling violet eyes, and then he drifted off to sleep. 


	3. 

**Part III**

Yeah, the next part. Aren't you happy? My thanks to Millennium Queen for being a spiffy betareader (thanks, sugha!), and to everyone who reviewed the first two parts. 

*****

Sentra wearily opened her eyes. It seemed like she had just fallen asleep. What had woken her? 

The door to her quarters abruptly flung itself open, and a huge figure filled the doorway: Quicken. 

She rolled over quickly and sat up. "What is it? Did Cobalt relapse?" 

"No, he's fine," his rough voice stated. "It's that Guardian of yours." 

"What are you talking about?" 

An eerie scream pierced the moment of silence. 

"Well, there's that," Quicken said. "He's been screaming every so often for the last minute. When we tried to quiet him, he managed to knock two of us flat on our bitmaps." 

"Spam it." Sentra sprinted to the door as Quicken stepped out of her way, and down to Bob's room. She found most of the other Riders standing outside, looking quite displeased, or as well as they could manage with their distorted features. The woman ignored their glares and hesitantly entered the room. 

The Guardian lay on his back, eerily still and silent. Only the slight movement of his breathing told her he was alive. Sentra kneeled down next to his bed, and felt the pulse at on his wrist; it was beating wildly. _Probably should wake him now before he starts again…_ She bent over him, placing her hands on his shoulders. She shook him gently. "Bob, wake up," Sentra said softly. There was no response. She called again. "Bob…" 

A small moan escaped his lips. _It sounds as though he's in pain…_ Sentra started to shake him again, but one of his one hands clamped itself on her arm, pulling her closer. 

"Dot?" a wretched voice asked. 

"No, Bob, you need to wake up. It's only a dream." She shook him again, roughly. 

Brown eyes opened slowly. They scanned over her face, then Bob quickly sat up, loosing her arm. "What's going on?" 

Sentra stood up. "You were screaming." 

"I was?" There was a look of genuine bewilderment on his face. He stared at his feet. "Sorry. I hope I didn't bother anyone." 

Sentra glanced to the figures outside the doorway. "Well, actually…" The others, seeing the Guardian had awoken, scowled at the two once more, then departed. 

Bob gave her a diminutive smirk. "I take it I'm not too popular around here." 

"Not in least bit. The Riders…really, everyone doesn't like outsiders too much," Sentra answered. "They only accept foreigners if they can contribute their skills to the community." 

"Such as healing?" 

He was fairly intelligent; for a Guardian. "You got it." She glanced to the chronometer on the wall. "It's late. You need your rest." The young woman got up once again. "You're going to need it." 

"For what?" 

"You'll see." She eased the door shut. 

He thought he had had it bad in the Academy. There, Bob had spent innumerable nanos studying and doing physical training, and was often drained by the end of the cycle. But this…this was much worse. 

The Guardian grimaced as he slid the gloves on his hands, feeling the texture rough against his skin. He cautiously sniffed one of them. "Is it supposed to smell like this?" 

"Everyone get used to the smell of Web armor sooner or later," Sentra laughed. 

She handed him his boots and he tugged them on. "I would prefer sooner." He stood up and picked up his helmet. "Ready." 

"Good." Sentra lead him to the airlock. "I hope you brushed up on your Binary." She tapped her own helmet. "Can't talk in these things." She started to pull on her helmet, but paused. "Be careful." 

"I'll stay frosty." 

Sentra looked him curiously, but didn't question the Guardian's quirky saying, as she pulled on her helmet and sealed it. Bob looked at his helmet, staring at the red eye piece that stretched across it. He then pulled it on, and followed her to the airlock. She pushed down on the lever, which controlled the airlock's two doors. The inner closed and sealed itself, then the outer one opened with a rush of cold air. Even with thick protection of his armor, Bob could feel the Web's frigid atmosphere seeping into his body. 

A Rider, whom Bob knew to be called Ion, rode up to the platform outside the airlock on a large, vile-looking web creature that was used as a steed, holding Sentra's own steed, Beta, in tow by its reins. 

Ion handed Sentra the reins, and she pulled herself onto the creature, then reached a hand to Bob. [Ready?] 

[I sure hope so.] Silently thanking his ancient languages professor, Bob grasped the offered hand, pulling himself up behind Sentra. She tugged on the reins and started forward, then stopped and looked back at him. 

[I don't know how timid you're around women, but you'd better hold on to my waist if you don't won't to fall off. I don't go back for drifters.] She immediately felt his arms attach themselves tp her waist with a vise-like hold. Satisfied, she pulled on reins and let out a shrill whistle. They jerked forward as Beta flapped its leathery wings. 

They rode in silence for a time. Bob became used to the movements of the creature, and relaxed ever so slightly. Sentra's question caught him off guard. 

[Bob, who's Dot?] She felt him stiffen behind her. 

[A friend.] He was glad his Binary didn't betray the tremble he could feel in his voice. [Why do you ask?] 

[When I tried to wake you last megacycle, you called me 'Dot'.] Sentra regretted asking him about; she felt had wandered into unwelcome territory. [Should I have not-] 

[She's someone I lost. A very…good friend.] Bob sucked in a breath through his teeth, the sound unusually loud inside his helmet. _User, I wish she had been more than just a friend._

Sentra pulled on the reins, turning back toward the base. Still feeling guilty about prodding Bob, she played the tour guide, pointing out what the various colors and shapes meant. 

Bob tried to pay attention, though his thoughts sporadically drifted back to a certain green-skinned sprite. But a speck on the horizon caught his attention. 

He tapped Sentra on the shoulder and pointed. [What's that?] 

She pulled Beta to a stop, peering the speck, which appeared to be moving toward them, growing larger. [Oh, FAQ.] She pulled on the reins, and they took off at a much faster pace than before. 

[What is it?] 

[It's a scouting mission from the Vector clan. We haven't wandered into their territory, but they are very hostile to anyone they meet.] 

The speck had grown to several riders that were approaching at an alarming rate. The piercing screeches of their mounts were faint but growing louder. 

Bob ducked as laser fire shot over his head. [Great, they're shooting at us now. Can't this thing go any faster?] 

[This 'thing' is called Beta, and no, we can't go any faster.] Sentra swung her head around to see the six riders gaining on them, shouting out shrill warcries in Binary. She abruptly swung Beta to the left to avoid more laser fire. 

Bob leaned around her and snatched up the laser pistol that was tucked into the holster on the saddle. 

She saw the movement out of the corner of her eye. [Hey!] 

[You just get us back to the base. I'll take care of these guys.] Bob precariously managed to swing himself around to face their pursers. He slid the switch on the grip and heard the satisfying whir as it powered up. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he took aim, gripping the pistol with both gloved hands. 

_It's been awhile, hasn't it?_ he asked himself. 

[Make sure you shoot at the Riders, and not their web creatures] Sentra called from behind him. [Their steeds have nearly impenetrable hides, and are resistant to laser fire.] 

[Got it.] The Guardian trained the sights on the nearest Rider and squeezed the trigger. He was rewarded with a high pitched scream of pain as the Rider tumbled off its steed. The others wailed and let forth a volley of laser fire as they spurred their mounts to accelerate. 

He fired on the next one, and the wailing increased in volume, screeching what Bob guessed to be numerous Binary obscenities. Still, the gap between the Vector riders and the two sprites was dwindling rapidly. 

The erratic laser increased. Several shots glanced off Beta's tough hide. Bob swiftly leaned to his right to avoid a shot. He snapped his head around as Sentra practically screamed in his ear. 

[Where'd they get you?] he demanded, swinging back around in the saddle. 

[My shoulder. I'll be fine as long we get back before they make null food out of us.] 

She abruptly pulled on the reins, moving Beta to a much slower pace. 

[What are you doing?!? We can still make it back to base!] 

[No need to. Reinforcements have arrived.] 

Ten of the base's Riders sailed overhead, while three more pulled to a stop before Sentra and Bob. 

[What happened here?] one of them demanded. 

[We were attacked by a troop of Vector scouts, Quicken] Sentra answered. She motioned to Bob, the laser pistol still gripped firmly in his hand. [Bob managed to take out two of them before you all got here.] 

Bob stiffened but did not turn around as several shrieks accented Sentra's explanation. The Riders had began slaughtering the Vector scouts. 

[You learn quickly, Guardian] Quicken said. Though Bob couldn't see the wickedly sharp eyes of the other, he could feel Quicken's gaze as he looked Bob carefully over. [You may survive here yet.] 

With a swift gesture, Quicken commanded the Riders to head back to the base, with Sentra and Bob shielded within the cluster of web creatures. Behind them, the Guardian knew they left behind half a dozen departed sprites. 


	4. Part IV

**Part IV**

As soon as the airlock slid open, Bob unsealed his helmet and gratefully breathed in the fresh air that was circulated through the base. He heard Sentra say something to him, but he did not heed her as he quickly exited the anteroom. Navigating the maze of halls and rooms with surprising skill, he came to the own room that had been assigned to him the megacycle before. 

Bob slammed the door and threw his helmet in the corner, unwilling to look at the eerily red single eye, accusing him of a dreadful deed. He sat down on the bed, dust from hours of disuse rising and falling, settling in a fine carpet on the floor. 

A mirror, cracked with age, hung on the wall opposite his bed. In it, he could see a young man, skin an sickly pale blue, staring back him with eyes large in the thin face. The man's hair had taken on a peculiar glint, its original luster lost in darker shades of gray. Glaring at his reflection, Bop pulled off his thickly armored boots, and peeled off the gloves, sticky with sweat. He undid the cuirass that covered him from neck to waist, revealing the thin shirt he wore underneath, which he tugged over his head and dropped carelessly to the floor. 

Now he could see the large white bandage plastered to his side. He could see the scars: those new, those healing, and those which would never fade. Most had been brought about by his prolonged exposure to the Web's deadly atmosphere; those were the ones that would remain with him always. The light glinted off them strangely, an erratic pattern of silver that seemed to be slowly devouring his body. The only place that hadn't been touched was his hands. He slowly rested his head in his hands, hoping perhaps somehow by pressing them against his forehead he could push out the memory of the last few nanoseconds. 

"Dear User…" he murmured softly, staring at the floor, avoiding the piercing gaze of the other that dwelled within the mirror. 

There was a soft click and the door to his room opened slightly. "Bob?" 

Sentra opened the door a little wider, and saw Bob sitting on the bed, his head in his hands. She walked in and sat next to him. She touched his bare shoulder. "Bob?" she repeated 

The Guardian immediately jumped up from the bed, his face twisting in a snarl, then quickly softened his features, hoping he hadn't frightened her. He mumbled an apology, sinking back down on the bed. 

A bit taken aback by his outburst, Sentra undid the white bundle she had brought with her, then reached over to pull the bandage off Bob's still tender side. He winced under the gentle touch of her thin fingers, but said nothing as she replaced the bandage with a fresh one, and taped it into place. 

"The healing is coming along rather quickly," she said quietly, neatly folding up the used bandage. "It'll leave a rather large scar, I'm afraid." 

Her disquiet deepened when Bob only replied with a grunt, instead of his usual retort or humorous observation. 

"Bob?" 

He got up from the bed, turning his back on her. "Please leave," he requested softly. 

Realization dawned on her like slap in the face. "Bob, is this about today? About what happened?" 

Bob placed his palms upon the wall, anger and pain welling up in him like a red flood. "Get out of my room." 

"You're a Guardian…don't tell me you haven't deleted before." 

"That's not my way. Please leave **now**." 

"Bob, you have to get past this. If you're going to survive out here, you can't dwell upon every life you take. Trust me, if you do, you'll drive yourself random." 

Almost before she could take a breath, he had turned on her, grabbing her wrists. "I am **not** a murderer," he growled. "And I am not about to become one for the sake of the clan." 

His face was so close to hers that she could see the dark lashes framing the raging eyes, and the veins that stood out beneath the ashen skin. She drew a long breath, striving to calm herself. 

"You're not a murderer. No one here is." Sentra slowly drew away, hoping he would release her. "In the Web, deletion is the way of life. You either kill, or be killed." She had not wanted to be so blunt, but she thought it best this way. "You've taken lives before, and you will again. This is **our** way, and you best learn to deal with it." She broke out of his steel hard grip. Speechlessly, she picked up the old bandage from the bed and walked to the door. She paused, a hand resting on the doorway. "Do it for Dot," she whispered, closing the door softly behind her. 

Bob collapsed back onto the bed, the strength leaving his body in a single shaky breath. "I can't…" he told himself. "I can't…won't kill another being." He raked his hands through his thick hair. "I can't…" 

_But you have to_, another voice said. _Robert Sinclair, you promised yourself you would do whatever it takes to get back to those you love and cherish. And if that involves your hand in the deletions of those who wish you killed, then that's the way it's going to be._

And, as always, his conscience won the battle. A heavy sigh echoing in his lungs, he laid back, crossing his arms behind his head. He took some comfort in the fact that the voice sounded mysteriously like Dot's. Eyes weighed with the of the sleep of those greatly wearied slowly closed, and sleep descended upon the Guardian. 


End file.
